


i really want some steak and eggs (boom chicka pow)

by proleptic_fancy



Category: Guild Wars, The Charioteer - Mary Renault
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Bad Bang, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Deliberate Badfic, F/M, I illustrated the hell out of this, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, M/M, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Xeno, YOLO, baller interspecies romance, food porn (figurative), secret-ish], this has been an advertisement for my guild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 23:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3627873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proleptic_fancy/pseuds/proleptic_fancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurie Odell is the host of popular Tyrian cooking show Kitchen Stadium Showdown, but are he and his intrped and sexy guest judges Sandy Reid and Bunny Lastname ready to handle the most dysfunctional kitchen crew yet in the battle for the Totally Real and Not at All Fake Good Food Award for Having the Best Food? </p><p>(And will Logan and Rytlock finally learn to understand each other and make out on live tv? Spolier: Yes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i really want some steak and eggs (boom chicka pow)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [havisham](https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/gifts).



> When I saw my recipients reality tv AU prompt my body was so ready to make that happen. Hoefully you don't mind the very light fusion with my favorite fandom. I just needed some background drama to help propel the plot involving these excellent characters from a book I have very definitely read.
> 
> <3

“Shit, we’ve got Skritt,” muttered Rox, recently-acquired buscat and dishwasher at the famed Destiny’s Edge restaurant, where she had just witness a large party of horrible rat creatures making a beeline for the restaurant door.

“You know the rules, Roxy,” said Kasmeer, their cute blonde hostess and Rox’s best friend. “If there’s at least ten of them, they constitute sentient people just like you or me, and we have to serve them by law,” she recited the lecture they’d received from the manager after the last incident. “Besides, they made a reservation.”

After the previous incident, Eir had intstituted a policy that all parties of ten or greater required a reservation. Conveniently, Skritt were far too dumb in small groups to work a phone, and even if they figured out a way, at least there was advance warning

“Best seat them in Canach’s section. Jory will quit if she has to go through anything like last time.”

“Good call,” Kas said, shivering. “Oh, here they come. You’d better get back to the kitchen.”

Rox nodded and set off, the cheerful tones of Kas’s “Welcome to Destiny’s Edge. How many in your party?”

“Rox, where the hell have you been?” Rytlock Brimstone, the head chef, demanded. “Get the dishwasher emptied on the double so you can get back out there and clear table three and eleven,” he ordered. In addition to being a grouchy old Charr-coot, he was also the only living relative Rox had, and he was never afraid to remind her she could be out on the street if he wasn’t getting his way, so when he said jump, Rox not only asked how high, but made sure to bleach the cutting boards on the way down.

Work had a rythm to it that relaxed Rox, even in the heat of the kitchen with Rytlock screaming at her. Clear tables, unload the dishwasher, clear tables, reload the dishwasher, hand wash the fragiles or any immediate needs, clear tyables again - it was a pattern she knew by heart, and she could follow it amidst even the worse of rat-induced chaos. She slid into the zone, gliding back and forth between the kitchen and the floor, making faces at Canach, their head waiter and a real pain in the ass, when nobody else was looking, keeping any stray fur off the freshly washed plates, glasses and silverware. It was shaping up to be an exceptionally smooth night, right until the crash.

“Rox, invcestigate,” Rytlock barked (or should that be meowed lol), seeing as he was juggling his attention between two pans and a griddle and could not be torn away.

Rox idly wondered why a fancy restaurant like Destiny’s Edge only had one guy doing any cooking. She’d always written it off as Rytlock being an inssane control freak (boy howdy), but suddenly she was only mostly sure that was the only reason. She walked towards the door and nearly missed the small grey blur streaking past her feet. Only then it was too late. The errant Skritt had broken into the kitchen and was now anrgily brandishing a cleaver.

“No closer!” it squeaked as Rox cautiously approached. “I’m makin kiiiiiiiiiiiiiindling.” It giggled, advancing.

Rox backed away, keeping her distance and almost bumping into Jory, who was watching the kitchen door with extreme constipation. “Oh no,” she said huskily, for due to a tragic and unexplained accident, that was the only tone her voice could make. “She didn’t, oh, oh no. Canach will have my head for this,” she moaned, also huskily.

“What the hell is going on?” Rox hissed.

“Canach was picking on them like he always does - god know why some jerkass like him went into the luxury service industry, do people just enjoy the way he taunts them- ugh, anyway, one got upset and ran off to the bathroom. I can only deduce (Jory read too many mystery novels and was therefore kind of annoying) that she then forgot the details of she was so distraught, but remembered the source of distress and responded in the only way her primitive singular brain understood - violence.”

“Skritt this, I’m getting the spare cast iron,” Rox said. “Mind throwing a distraction that thing’s way while I sneak up behind it and pop,” she mimed hitting a home run, to mix metaphors.

“Rox, that is beyond illegal! Just because she’s not technically a person on her own doesn’t mean you can assault her!”

“Yeah!” the Skritt chimed in. “Skritt can hear you.”

“Argh,” said Rox. She wasn’t paid enough for this. “Just because you want her to have a go at Canach until maple syrup comes out…” she muttered.

Suddenly, the other door burst open and the temperature of the humid kitchen dropped several degrees under the icy glare of the new arrival.

“Eir,” Jory breathed.

“Do your jobs, both of you,” she said coldly. “We’ve had a pair of walkouts already from the commotion, and the Skritt are furious.”

Jory squeaked and ran away. Rox took a more measured pace to deal with the now-empty tables. The last thing she heard as she left was, “And as, for you.” Then, only silence.

Eir called a staff meeting that night after the restaurant had closed and the last load of dishes had been loaded.

“This is unacceptable. You know this to be true.”

Jory hung her head. Rytlock looked bored; Canach defiant.

Eir continued, “In light of both this and…other recent events, Destiny’s Edge will be making significant changes, starting now. Worry not, none of you will be losing your positions at this time. However, Canach, you may consider yourself probationary until you have sufficiently proven your ability to behave like an adult. You’re nearly one hundred - you should know better!”

“Ah, but what is a mere one hundred years to the mighty oak? Who can know by how long yet I may outlive every last one of you?” Canach said lightly. “But I suppose for the time being, I can accede to your superior wisdom.”

Kas shivered at his tone, but if Eir was rattled, she hid it flawlessly. “Anyway,” she said, “it is clear we cannot continue to support our current customer load with only one man in the kitchen, no matter how talented that man may be. To that effect, I will be hiring a preparatory cook to assist Rytlock immediately.”

Rytlock nodded, then returned to examining his claws.

“In addtion, with the projected increase in business due to the faster service hiring a prep cook will assure, I am exploring the potential option of hiring a second full-time chef to supplement Rytlock.”

“Now wait just one minute,” Rytlock shouted, his head snapping up in angry surprise. “You want to hire some community college culinary dropout to chop my vegetables, fine, but I swore I’d never share my title or my kitchen again. You knew this!”

Eir fixed him with a level gaze. “Your blustering has been noted,” she said flatly.

“Damn fool Norn! See if I won’t quit over this, just try me!” He stood and stormed out, the heavy front door banging closed behind him.

Eir sighed. “You’re all dismissed,” she said. “We’ll try again on Tuesday, shall we?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*TUESDAY~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day’s lunch hours went by smoothly. Despite Rytlock’s sulky attitude, he’d arrived on time and ready to cook, and the wood-oven roasted dolyak beef bavette he’d put on special had apparently been divine. She was helping Kas get set up for dinner in their three hour downtime when there was a sound at the door.

"Roxie, check it!" Kasmeer hissed, jamming a perfect tiny blonde elbow between Rox's ribs. "That must be the new prep cook Miss Stegalkin was telling us about. He's so...tall."

Tall, sure, but also broad-shouldered with flame-red hair, a flawless jawline, and hands that looked like they could snap a tree trunk as easily as a moa bone. Rox decided to keep that observation to herself - Kas had a bad case of that strange human tendency to get uncomfortable during the discussion of such practical matters of attraction.

Kasmeer was forst out of the gate, of course. Rox suppressed a momentary surge of ancestral bloodlust, an unfortunate holdover from the time when the females of her species fought to the death over potential mates. Just because she was trhe prettiest basically ever didn’t make Kas any less gay.

“Hey,” Kas said, fluttering her eyelashes instintively - a traditional human defense mechanism, no doubt because they lacked proper talons. “Are you the new chef Miss Eir hired? My names Kasmeer, but everybody calls me Kas.”

“Er,” said the fine figure of Norn before them.

Kas didn’t give him the space to continue. “Ooh, and this is my friend Roxie - she works here too!”

Rox thumped a fist against her chest in a half-hearted salute, but said nothing. What could she say without sounding like an idiot?

“Oh, uh, hey,” he said. “I’m Braham. Just, uh, Braham.” He ran a hand over his elaborately braided hair. “I’d better report to Chef Brimstone before I’m late on my first day. It was nice to meet both of you - guess I’ll see you around, huh?”

“Nice meeting you too,” said Kas perkily.

“Uh yeah,” said Rox a moment later, but by then he had already turned to the kitchen doors. She sighed. Boys were so hard.

“What was up with that?!” Kas hissed. “I know you hate everybody cause your family died and stuff, but you could at least pretend to make him feel welcome!”

“No! Ugh, I mean, it’s not that,” Rox said, frowning. “What was I supposed to say?”

“I dunno,” Kas said accusingly. “ ‘It’s nice to meet you Braham. Brimstone has a temper, so watch out. You’ll do great!’ Just, something!!”

“I guess,” Rox said, disheartened. “Sorry I’m such an embarrassment.”

“Aww, don’t worry about it Roxy!” Kas grinned and gave a cheery one-armed hug to as much of Rox as her spindly human limbs could manage. “We can fix that…probably.”

Rox sighed again. Kasmeer meant well. Probably.

“Oh, Jory’s here - we’ll talk more later!” It only sort of sounded like a threat as Kasmeer flounced off to commit some health-code questionable PDA with her grumpy goth girlfriend.

Luckily there were lots of tables to get set for the dinner crowd to take Rox’s mind off of how much she wanted to get her toeclaws into Braham, and it wasn’t like Kas and Jory were going to help within the first twenty minutes of anytime they saw eachother. Rox appreciated that they were deeply in love and all, but she still thought it was a bit tacky to do weird human tongue things on the clock. She definitely wasn’t jealous or anything because she wanted to do weird human tongue things with Braham but her tongue was raspy in the way of a common housecat and would probably make him decidedly uncomfortable at best. Stupid humans had it so easy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~A WEEK LATER~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rox was running late. She had only been late to the start of her eleven hour shift twice in the six months she had been working here, and both times Rytlock had chewed her out. He’d been in the Legion, he liked to remind her, forgetting that so had she until very recently, and the legion never had to worry about a traffic jam on the Fort Mariner bridge. Luckily, as she crept in with a bad excuse ready, Rytlock was nowhere to be seen.

"YOU!" Rytlock's snarling voice was accompanied by the sound of smashing crockery in the back. "How dare you show your cowardly face in this kitchen?"

"Rytlock, please!" Rox didn't recognize the second man. His voice was plaintive, even pleading. "I can explain if you'll just let me-"

"You had your chance five years ago Logan! Now GET OUT!" Rytlock roared, and Rox felt herself taking a step away from the door. Her brother's wrath was formidible indeed, and if they caught her eavesdropping, she'd be out on her tail for sure.

The sound of approaching footsteps sent Rox scampering away as a handsome human exploded out of the kitchen. He didn't seem to notice her as he stormed past, straight toward Eir's office.

"Eir, he won't see reason," the human said as he opened the door without knocking. "There's nowhere I'd rather be than back here with both of you, but he won't accept it - he nevr will!”

Eir looked over the top of the human, locking eyes with Rox in the universal glare of 'be elsewhere,' before putting her hand on Logan's shoulder and drawing him inside. "I'll talk to him again, Logan. We can make this work. We have to." She shut the door.

Figuring she could make herself useful, Rox grabbed a broom and dustpan from under the bar and crept into the kitchen to clean up Rytlock's mess. They'd be opening for lunch soon and his attention needed to be on getting everything ready to go. The fact that Braham was already back there probably had nothing to do with it. Probably.

Rytlock was muttering to himself, tail twitching furiously, and determinedly ignoring Rox. Just as well - he normally hated having her in the kitchen, even when they weren’t open for business. She swept up the remains of what had once been a pair of ceramic serving bowls, and dumped the shards into the nearest bin. Braham was in the back chopping an onion. As much as Rox had quickly learned to enjoy watching his knifework, this was strictly an intelligence gathering mission for now. She didn’t have much time to figure out what had her brother in such a state.

“What was that all about?” she asked, voice low, sidling up beside Braham as he chopped. He had sliced the onion in half lengthwise and was in the process of removing the ends so as to be able to easily peel off the topmost layer.

Braham gave a half-shrug. “Couldn’t say,” he said. “That Logan guy said Eir had rehired him as the assistant chef here and Rytlock lost it.” He spun the cutting board ninety degrees and continued. “Dunno why. We could use another pair of hands if Eir wants to make this place like it used to be.”

Rox was surprised. Braham had almost never mentioned Eir directly - she was pretty sure he hadn’t talked to her since he started here a week ago either. She was about to ask further when Rytlock’s voice cut through the air.

“Dammit Rox, let the boy do his job. And you get your ass out front and prep the tables.” It wasn’t the kind of order you waited to hear twice.

When she got back to the front of the restaurant, both Eir and the strange new man were gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~A FEW DAYS LATER~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rox walked up to the restaurant. She was pretty early, she knew, but she’d been up all night having nigfhtmares about chocking black dust and collapsing tunnel walls, so she figured she might as well go into work. Luckily, Rytlock had entrusted her with a key to the restaurant. Unluckily, as she made it to the glass storefront of Destiny’s Edge, the place had been thouroughly egged in the night. She stared for a moment, dumbfounded, before letting herself through the egg-encrusted door with tears pricking the corners of her eyes. The restaurant was already almost failing - from what little she’d been able to gather from Jory’s blatant eavesdropping on the management, Eir had thrown the last of her savings into trying to recoverf the restaurant’s reputation, and Logan was working for barely more than minimum wage until the place could get back on it’s feet.

She grabbed a bucket from the supply closet and a couple rags from the bar, and returned outside to begin cleaning. Who would do something like this, she wondered plaintively?

“Hey, do you want a hand?” a deep, handsome voice rumbled from somewhere behind her.

Rox jumped. It was Braham, because of course it was Braham sneaking up on her while she was washing moa eggs and pollen off a window and crying pathetically. Wait - moa eggs? It had to be, though - the yolk was too dark to be even an owl griffon egg, and they were certainly too big to be anything else, unless Rytlock had started impoting wyvern eggs from the Silverwastes. And pollen? No, it couldn’t be, but who else could it be?

“Uh, sure,” she said. “There’s another rag if you want to help clean up.”

He nodded and fetched it from the bucket, clearing of the offending mass with broad, powerful strokes. Rox did her best not to stare.

“Who would do something like this to the restaurant?” asked Braham.

“You Obviously Love Omelettes,” Rox breathed.

“Er, pardon?”

“It’s a rival restaurant,” Rox said, finding her voice. She was sure now, it all added up. “You Obviously Love Omelettes. The manager there was Eir’s protege - almost like a daughter to her, but then she started running around with a pair of Sylvari brothers. Next thing you know, You Obviously Love Omelettes somehow beats Destiny’s Edge out for the city’s top restaurant, and now we get to clean moa eggs off the windows.” She wrung out her rag with more violence than necessary, then redoubled her efforts on a particularly stubborn spot.

“I didn’t know,” Braham said softly. “Here, let me help with that.” He leaned in to scrub at the same spot, and his warm hand bumped her fuzzy one, making her drop her rag in surprise.

“Oh, sorry,” Rox said quickly, at the same time as Braham’s “Let me get that-” They bent down as one to retreive the errant cloth and nearly knocked their heads together.

Braham offered her the rag without a word, watching her in a way he hadn’t been recently. Rox felt her face get hot as she hooked it on a talon and focused all her thoughts on getting the building clean before Rytlock and Eir arrived.

“I think I can handle it from here if you need to get started inside,” she said. It was true, together they were already almost finished. “But thank you for the help - I really appreciate it,” she said, remembering the scolding she had received from Kas a few days before.

“Oh?” Braham said, dropping his rag back into the bucket. “It’s no problem. Those omelette guys sound like real assholes.”

Rox laughed. “I’ll bet they heard we got Logan back and are trying to keep their top spot through coward’s tactics.”

“Only if Rytlock can learn how to share the kitchen with him long enough to make one meal, let alone one hundred.” Braham shook his head. “For everyone’s sake, I hope so. I would like to give the people they did this a taste of their own behavior, but I suppose I can settle for besting them in the kitchen.

He rolled his shoulders, a gesture Rox observed with extreme interest, and made his way inside.

“You and me both, Braham,” she murmured as she dipped her rag back into the now-cold water for a final pass. “You and me both.”

When Rox finally came inside, a familiar sight awaited her.

Logan was sat at the table, his head in his hands. From the sporadically receding tinkle of smashing glassware in the kitchen, it was clear he and Rytlock had just come to the conclusion of another huge fight.

“Chef Thackaray, sir?” she asked timidly.

His head snapped up and he glared at her for a moment before his expression softened. “Oh, it’s you Rox,” he said. “I suppose you can sit down if you promise not to yell at me. I think I’ve had quite enough of that for one day.” He smiled weakly at his own sad little joke as she took a seat at the table across from him.

“I don’t get it,” she said. “You’re a really good cook, and you do everything he says, but the restaurant isn’t doing any better and my brother still hates you. Oop, sorry!” she added quickly, slapping a hand over her mouth. “It’s none of my business, forget I asked!” she added, urgent but muffled.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Logan said. “You’ve always seemed to be the reasonable sort. Good head on your shoulders - I see why our junior chef likes you so much.”

Rox ducked her head.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Logan said quickly. “Didn’t you know? Or is it that you do know, but I’m not supposed to have noticed, because of Rytlock?” His voice took on a soft, conspiratorial tone, almost as if he was now talking to himself alone. “I suppose I can see how that well may have become poisoned for him, after everything.”

“What happened between you two?” Rox asked. Sure it wasn’t any of her business, but whatever was or unfortunately wasn’t going on between her and Braham wasn’t any of Logan’s business either, but he’d seen fit to comment anyway, so why not indulge her inner Jory?

“I suppose there’s no harm in telling the story,” Logan said. “You were bound to find out eventually, and I fear Rytlock’s side of it may be far from my own.” He sighed. “Five years ago, Rytlock and I shared responsibility in the kitchen completely. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve always butted heads from time to time, but that refusal to back down, the desire to push each other to the limit of our ability is what made us such a good team. Our food was reknowned across Tyria for its unique blend of traditional Citadel cooking and cutting-edge developments in the top-tier Divinity’s Reach culinary scene. We were the only game in town for years, until a challenger arrived.”

“You Obviously Love Omelettes,” said Rox.

“Correct. As their popularity grew, ours held steady, and a rivalry began to emerge. At first the atmosphere was healthy, it pushed Rytlock and I even harder in our innovation, but soon, the stress led to cracks in our team.” Logan shok his head unhappily. “First it was our head waitress, Caithe. She started missing shifts and eventually disappeared altogether. I still don’t know what became of her. After Caithe left, Eir made an unpopular decision. She brought in an outsider to replace Caithe instead of promoting from our existing staff, and that rubbed many people the wrong way, though I can see how she believed she was doing the right thing at the time.”

He continued, “It all came to a head when a local newspaper arranged a friendly cooking competition between us and the Wren brothers. By then, Rytlock and I were fighting constantly over every little thing. He wanted me out and wasn’t afraid to say as much to Eir and anyone else who would listen. The week before the competition was to be held, I received a call from the manager of the first restaurant I’d ever worked in, Palace Cuisine.” His eyes took on a faraway cast. “Jennah needed my help. Her chef had been hospitalized by a car accident and she beseached me to come home and fill in. Her restaurant was slated to be a part of the first annual Taste of Divinity festival, and she would have never made it without a chef that knew how the place operated. I couldn’t leave a…friend in trouble, so I went to her aid. My only role in the competition with the Wrens was to watch everything unfold on television.”

“Destiny’s Edge lost?” Rox asked.

“Worse than that,” Logan said. “Somehow our competition menu had been leaked to the other side, and they tried every trick in the book to sabotage us. I don’t know how they smuggled in Orrian truffles, but they managed it, and everything the judges ate after their first course left the table had an aftertaste of rotting fish. Rytlock never stood a chance.”

Rox was shocked. Never mind that cheating was totally in these guys’ wheelhouse. She was a little naive at times. “I didn’t realize…”

“Perhaps it was wrong of me to turn my back on Destiny’s Edge when I did,” said Logan sadly. “I still struggle with whether I truly did what was right, but what kills me is that Rytlock will never forgive me for a crime I did not commit. His anger at my leaving is justified, but I would have never given up the menu and sabotaged the competition. I couldn’t have - I was in another city before he’d even finalized the courses to scrub any trace of my influence away, but his anger blinds him even now. Zojja couldn’t forgive Eir for letting me leave, for hiring Canach, for allowing the menu to be stolen. She left Lion’s Arch and has not returned. I tried to come back, but Rytlock wouldn’t have me, and the result was the restaurant you saw when you were hired. The five of us were unstoppable, but with only two left, they could barely handle some ornery Skritt.” He chuckled darkly. “We may never get Caithe and Zojja back, but I will do everything in my power to return this place to its former glory…if only Rytlock would let me.”

Rox nodded. It was a lot to take in, but several things had become very clear, the most prominent of which was that her and Logan had at least one unexpected thing in common.

“Maybe Rytlock will come around, eventually,” she tried to reassure him.

“I can only but hope,” Logan replied, sounding unconvinced. “Not just for me and my foolish pride, but for Eir and her dream, and for all of us here now, and most of all, for this place. It deserves better than the likes of what it’s got.”

He was quiet for a moment, then. “I suppose I should let you get back to work. Thank you for listening, Rox.”

“Anytime, sir.”

~*~*~*~LATER THAT EVENING~*~*~*~

“It’s…a note,” Logan said.

“Well, out with it! What does it say?” Rytlock demanded.

“We, the brothers Wren , challenge Destiny’s edge to a three-on-three, no holds barred, throwdown bro-down showdown on live television. Specifically, the [REFERENCE TO REQUESTED CANON HERE] show, and we’ve already made the reservation. We know running away from a fight is more your style, but try not to disappoint your viewing audience, just this once.”

As Logan read the words, his expreession grew more and more incredulous. Rytlock, on the other hand, just looked furious.

“Of course we’ll accept!” he roared. “I’ll show them who runs from a fight - oh wait, I don’t have to, because we all already know it was you, Logan!”

Logan frowned. “I’ve apologized a thousand times over for my rash and careless actions in the past - I truly believed at the time that I was doing the right thing. However, this time I will do better. I say we fight, and I’ll stay at your side until the end.”

“Hmph,” Rytlock muttered, looking away.

“I’m in too,” said Braham. “I’ve had enough of this constant harrassment.”

“Then it’s settled. We take them down in front of everyone. We will finally achieve our rightful glory!” Rytlock said.

“Yeah!” Braham added, looking pumped.

Rox kept quiet. She wasn’t so sure playing into the Wrens’ hands was the wisest course of action. On the other hand, if they refused the invitation, YOLO could paint them as cowards once and for all, and it was unforgivable to let the enemy define you in the hearts and minds of onlookers. The restaurant could be ruined! Either way, the Wren’s had the upper hand, and there wasn’t anything Rox could do to help. Disheartened and sick to her stomach, she slipped out the back door into the narrow alley, to the sound of Rytlock and Logan bickering over potential menu choices for the competition.

Around ten minutes later, she was joined by Braham.

“You don’t seem too happy about the throwdown,” he said. “I thought you’d be looking forward to the chance to stick it to those cabbage patch creeps.”

“Normally I would,” Rox said, “but what can I do? I mean, I’ll come and cheer you guys on if you let me, but I’m not a cook or anything. I can’t help us win. I feel useless.”

Braham nodded, thinking. After a pause, he spoke again.

“You’re Rytlock’s sister, aren’t you?” Braham asked.

“Half-sister,” Rox corrected. “After the accident, he was the closest thing to family I had left. I knew my mom had another kid from back in her army days, but I’d never even met him until, well,” she trailed off, suddenly finding the words too difficult to form on her tongue.

“Oh,” said Braham. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay, you had no way to know,” Rox said. “Rytlock keeps threatening to kick me out if I screw up this job, but I think he really does feel responsible for me in his own way.”

“Man, if I ever hear him say anything like that to you, I’ll give him a piece of my mind…or my fist.”

Rox looked away, face suddenly hot. “It’s not like that,” she said. “He never asked for some talentless orphan to get dumped in his lap. It’s my responsibility to prove that I’m worthy to stay.”

Braham was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke up again, it was with an unusual thoughtfulness. “Would you like to know a secret?” he asked.

Rox nodded, unsure where he was going with this.

“Eir’s my mother. Dumped me off with my dad to chase her dreams. The last thing he said to me before he died was not to try to find her, not to trouble her.”

“Ashes, that’s terrible.” Rox reached out, gently rested her hand on Braham’s arm. He didn’t pull away. “How-how old were you?”

“Seven.”

If she hadn’t heard the way Rytlock talked about his old assistant, she wouldn’t think a single word could hold so much bitterness.

“Not even Rytlock knows who I really am. None of them do,” he said. “Except Eir. And you, now.”

He drew his arm around Rox, pulling her close. She barely, just barely resisted the urge to purr.

“I came here to confront her, but I couldn’t find the words. I took the work she offered to stall for time, but now, I’m not so sure anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s just a person, like you, or me, or Kas, well, maybe not so much like Kas.” He smiled. “She’s not a saint or a monster, just trying to find her way like the rest of us, and the longer I swtay here, the more I want to help. Not just for her, but for everyone. Especially you.”

“Why me?” Rox asked. “I bus tables and wash dishes. What does it mean to me if Destiny’s Edge wins the throwdown?”

“It means more to you than anyone,” Braham said. “You think if we win, Rytlock will finally start treating you like family, don’t you? You just said you had to prove yourself to him.”

He’d red her like a book.

“Rox, you’re special,” Braham said. “I traveled a long way from Hoelbrak to find Eir, and that whole time, I’ve never met anybody like you. You’re smart, and work hard, and I’ve never met anybody whojust cares so much about everyone around them. There’s just something about you that makes people feel safe, like they can open up about anything and you’ll be there, no matter what.”

Rox tried to hide the way she gasped at that, but didn’t manage.

“Did I say something wrong?” Braham asked suddenly, searching her face for answers.

“No, it’s not that, it’s just…I don’t think Rytlock ever told you. My name, before the accident, it was Pickheart. My family chose it for me, they said because I could break through the armor around anyone’s heart.”

“Rox Pickheart,” Braham said quietly, then with more resolve, “If Rytlock won’t give you his name after all of this settles down, I have half a mind to give you mine, er, if that’s what you’d want.”

Rox’s heart was pounding so loud now she was surprised they couldn’t hear it over the endless argument inside. “If you’d have me,” she said.

“Always.”

He kissed her then in a way she’d never been kissed, given her previous propensity to stay among her own kind. Her blood burned and her pulse raced as he brought up a hand to caress her cheek. Just when she thought the moment couldn’t be any more perfect, she received a shock like a bucket of ice water in the form of Rytlock’s furious snarl.

“What the hell are you two doing?! It’s unnatural!” he roared. “You, get inside and convince Logan he’s being an idiot about grilled armorfish and I might be able to forget what I just saw,” he directed at Braham. “You,” he fixed Rox with a long, firey glare. “You get the hell out of my site until I’ve decided what to do with you. Disgraceful! Disgusting!” he stormed back inside, leaving Rox alone to try and fail not to start crying.

Of course she should have known better than to fall for Braham, even if he was perfect. Why couldn’t he be Charr? She ignored the nagging voice in her head that cruelly pointed out that if he were Charr, he’d probably spit on her as soon as say hello, given what she was, and sharing his name with worthless scum like her would have been unthinkable. If she put her head down, worked harder than ever before, and stayed out of Braham’s way, maybe Rytlock would forgive her, she could get a name and a place in Charr society, and meet someone of her own kind. That was what she wanted, right?

~*~*~*~*~*~THE NEXT MORNING~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I need you all for a staff meeting, now,” said Eir. She looked unhappy.

Rox took a seat at the nearset table, flollwed closely by Braham. Logan and his perpetual hangdog expression were already there. Eir waited patiently, tapping one blunt fingernail against the table, until Rytlock stomped in, faintly smoldering. No one asked.

“You may be wondering why I’ve called this meating. Fear not, all will become clear.” Eir said pretentiously. “ I have received notice that you all intend aon participating in some kind of…”bro-down”… with those egg-cracking cretins, and I’m here to tell you there will be none of that in my restaurant!”

“What do you mean?” asked Braham, just as Rytlock growled “Just try and stop us.”

“It’s juvenile behavior at best, which I expect from them but not from you (except Canach). In addition, they are known to be cowards, cheaters, and scoundrels of the highest order. When they inevitably use their underhanded tactics to undermine you, the resulting negative press might be enough to end us for ever. I have not worked so hard to turn everything around since our last failure just to see it squandrerd for the sake of a childish grudge.” Eir glowered. “I hope we understand each other.”

“We certainly do not!’ said Rytlock angrily. “As if you are the only one who’s worked hard to rebuild here - if anything, you’ve been undermining me! Bringing in that idiot cub to distract,” he shuddered, “my hard working if completely inept little charge here, bringing back Logan! You know, Eir. You know he leaked the menu to YOLO and ran away home so he wouldn’t take the fall for it, and yet you keep trying to force things the way they used to be. Maybe things are better without him - did you ever stop to consider that?!”

“Damn you, Rytlock!” Logan stood abruptly, the first time Rox had heard him truly raise his voice. “I’ve owned up to my mistakes a hundred times over, and still you accuse me of a crime I never, would NEVER commit! I didn’t come back to make you miserable, I came becasue it was asked of me, by a friend. If that’s too much for you to handle, perhaps a greater change yet is in order, like a new head chef!”

There was resolve in his voice, but Rox could see he was trembling. More than anything she wanted to cut in, to stand up for Rytlock on Logan’s behalf, but he’d never Belieber, and more importantly, he would never, ever forgive her. After all she’d given up already, she couldn’t risk it now for some damn human, even one hurting as much as she was for the sake of wanting something they couldn’t have.

“Enough, both of you!” Eir snapped, then sighed longly. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe it was a mistake trying to heal old wounds after everything that’s happened.” She stood too, shaking her head. “Do whatever you please, then. I’m going home.”

“Eir!” Braham tried to stop her, but she ignored him, and Rox’s heart burned.

There was an awkward silence among the assembled kitchen staff. Rytlock broke it eventually, as he always did. “Well, come on then,” he said, gruff but subdued. “Let’s finish getting everything ready for tomorrow’s competition. I want all of you bright and chipper in the morning.”

He trudged back into the kitchen, tail low, avoiding Logan’s eye.

Rox and Braham followed close behind, eager to get finished up and get out of there.

The three, then soon after, the four of them worked in silent tandem, scrubbing pots, stowing knives, and cleaning counters. However, in their hurry to get finished and get out of each others’ sight as soon as possible, a horrible mistake was made. Rytlock dropped a knife, and Braham, stressed and exhausted, made a singular critical mistake in trying to catch it. The knife was very sharp, and it sliced his hand badly.

He grimaced, bleeding all over the kitchen as Rytlock berated him many times over for doing a dumb thing like trying to catch a kitchen knife blade forst in his hand.

Rox rushed to his side, suddenly caring a lot less what Rytlock thought about it. She cradled his hand in her paw, examining th damage. “This looks bad,” she said. “Did you at least miss the tendon?” she asked. If not, it could be months before his hand healed enough to cook again.

He tried to move it, and shook his head. Damn. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

“Logan, make yourself useful and get the boy to the hospital,” Rytlock barked, probably secretly relishing the chance to let Braham bleed all over Logan’s shiny luxury sedan.

Logan nodded, and he and Braham slowly made their way to the front.

“Now what am I going to do?” Rytlock muttered. “Night before the competition and my prep chef gets injured like an asshole. Where am I going to find a replacement at this hoiur?”

Rox cleared her throught.

“Oh, you have an idea?” said Rytlock derisively.

“Well, what about me?” said Rox, hoping she sounded braver than she felt.

“You? Hah!’ Rytlock snorted. “You’re barely fit to do the damn dishes. What makes you think you can stand in this kitchen as my subordinate?”

“I can chop a vegetable or stir a pan as good as anybody else,” Rox said, her indignation at his outright dismissal giving her a clear head of steam. “I know how you operate your kitchen, and I always follow orders. I might not be a professional, but right now, I’m all you’ve got.”

Rytlock paused for a moment, then threw his head back in full, uproariou slaughter. “All right!” he said. “There’s the backbone I’ve been waiting for - you’re no good to me if you’re too scared of me to do your damn job, and it’s about time you realized that. Good job, kid. Keep handling yourself like that and I’l be sending a letter to the Citadel bureaucats in no time!”

“I - thank you sir! I won’t disappoint you!” Rox said, feeling like she could burst from joy at the potential promise. And with that, and brevity being the better part of valor, she fled into the night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~OMG IT’S HAPPENING~*~*~*~*~*~

~*~*~*~*~*~THE NEXT MORNING~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Gooooooood evening, meatsuits, and welcome to Kitchen Stadium Throwdown!” said the charismatic and energetic young host - Laurie Something or other, Rox thought. She didn’t really go in for cooking shows, but apparently this was the one to win. He had nice teeth, for a human.

“We’ve got a very special showdown for you tonight, folks,” Laurie continued, “the biggest rivalry in Lion’s Arch. Clashing once again for your viewing pleasure. On the left, our challengers!” He made a sweeping gesture toward the pair of sylvari standing in front of the station opposite Rox.

One was shorter, with bright green bark and a crown of thorny twigs. He was also wearing an obnoxious pink apron. The taller one had bark so dark green it was nearly black, with kinder, more human features and a ponytail of shiny russet banana leaves pulled back under his hairnet. Rox didn’t really understand Sylvari genetics, but she had a feeling the big one was adopted. Their assistant, an impish Asura girl, stood slightly behind them, gently rocking up onto the balls of her clawed feet.

“Head chef Talos Wren and pastry-chef prodigy Caddoc Wren are here today representing their restaurant, You Obviously Love Omelettes.” Said Laurie. “Featuring a previously unheard-of blend of far-Shiverpeaks comfort food with a uniquely Caledon twist, YOLO, as it’s called by those lucky enough to snag a table for Saturday brunch, reflects the heritage and passion of its founding partners, and has brought home the Totally Real and Not at All Fake Good Food Award for Having the Best Food here in Lion’s Arch for five years running.”

“Aaaaaaand on the right, we have our challengees to this little bro-down,” Laurie now gestured to Rytlock and Logan. “Head chef Rytlock Brimstone and Sous Chef Logan Thackaray are back together once again after a series of well-publicized public grievances. Long known for their incredible East-West fusion cuisine, they’re here to reclaim the throne for Destiny’s Edge, long-standing crown jewel of Lion’s Arch **********FINE DINING****** and still the title holder for longest consecutive holder of a Consortium star in all of Tyria.”

Rytlock stomped and snarled - he had an image to maintain after all. The shrubby Sylvari rolled his eyes.

“Finally, it is my honor to introduce this week’s guest judges,” said Laurie, turning to the cener table, where the empty center seat reserved for him was flanked by two other human males. “First, all the way from Divinity’s Reach, where his new restaurant Bridstow Table has burst onto the scene as the hottest place to sample the finest in noveau-Elonian cuisine, chef Sandy Reid. Next, reknowned food critic and blogger for the Southsun Trader, Bunny!” The second human grinned and flashed an unfamiliar three-fingered hand gesture.

“Contestants, you know the rules,” said Laurie. “You’ll have three hours to prepare a three-course meal for your three judges from any ingredients you can find in the communal pantry. You will be judged on taste, ingenuity, and presentation. Ready, se, cook!”

Rox took off, running throught the list of ingredients she needed to grab in her mind. It was easy to muscle past the little Asura and get the best pick of the ingredients to return to Rytlock.

“All right, like we talked about now,” said Rytlock. “Rox, prepare the herbs for the dry rub while Logan puts together his gastrique. I’ll prepare the birds for stuffing, and then you can make sure his fancy sauces aren’t burning while you get the grlic started for the stew.”

“Yes, sir!” said Rox, and rushed to do as she was told. Measuring out and grinding the herbs was no problem: Ascalonian sage, dried flat-leaf parsley, sea salt, the flavors of her childhood in the fahrar, elevated by Rytlock’s skills in perfectly-grilled meat. As soon as she finished, she dropped the mortar full of goodness off at Rytlock’s station, where he was aggressively butchering some freshly-plucked ducks, and headed over to replace Logan at the stove. He nodded to her and briskly walked off to start preparations on the ambitious pastry concoction he had slotted for dessert.

Even though the work was different, Rox found herself settling just as easily into a pattern of stirring sauces, dicing vegetables, and following any passing orders from the two senior chefs. There had been a brief but heated argument between Rytlock and Logan over the best way to ensure the duck (stuffed to bursting with tender strips of fatty dolyak back meat, green onions, and a touch of crispy bacon, because a meal without at least two kinds of meat was no meal for for a Charr) could be cooked properly without a traditional slow roast over three days, which ended in Rytlock snarling that liquid smoke was a coward’s workaround and ordering Rox to fire up the provided clay oven. Other than that, their meal was slowly but surely moving toward completion as time ticked downward, with no major disasters.

All too soon, after a last desparate scramble to ensure everything was plated properly, the final gong sounded, and the competition was complete. Exhaustion replaced adrenaline and hit Rox like a ton of bricks, even though she knoew anything that happened from here on out was out of her control. She took a seat next to Eir, who’d spent the entire cook-off pacing as if she were about to birth a litter of kittens, in the competators section. Across the judging area, the Sylvari glowered at them.

“Chef Talos, Chef Logan,” please come forward and describe your first course. As is traditional, the challengee will go first,” said Laurie.

“Gladly,” said Logan, taking his position in front of the row of judges. “To start you off today, my team and I have prepared our take on a traditional Ascalonian fisherman’s stew, accompanied by an artickoe persto and brie crostini.”

The plates and tiny bowls were set in front of the judges, who all inhaled deeply before taking their first sip. The soup featured white fish native to the lakes of southern Ascalon, roasted with garlic cloves and root vegetables in a clear, fresh broth. The judges seemed to approve.

“The way the fish melts in my mouth is just phenominal,” said chef Sandy. “And even with that and the garlic, the broth is so clean that there isn’t any sour or fishy aftertaste common to this kind of soup. Flawless exectution of a classic recipe.”

“I agree on the soup,” said Bunny. “But I’d have used a lighter hand on the thyme in the artichoke pesto. You’ve tried to balance so many delicate flavors, it threatens to overwhelm some of them.”

Rytlock looked ready to spring up and argue with that, but Eir dug her hand into his arm and kept him still.

“Thank you, chef Logan.” Said Laurie. “Chef Talos?”

The short Sylvari stepped forward, bumping Logan’s shoulder as he passed. “Today my brother and I set before you Maguuma jungle cactus two ways. I personally recommend the nopal mousse be enjoyed on top of the prickly pear fritter, though both are delicious separately, of course.”

The judges took their first bite, though only Bunny immediately followed the chef’s advice, and his eyes lit up as he savored the taste.

“This is excellent,” Bunny raved. “Complementing the spicy-sweet crunch of the fritter with the smooth, savory roasted nopal mousse was a stroke of genius.”

“Your innovative spirit is comendable,” agreed Laurie. “Sylvari seem to work as effortlessly in vegtable dishes as Charr do when handling red meat. I’m very impressed.”

“We’ll be adding the dish to our menu immediately,” said Talos, giving a little bow. It was clear he’d decided he’d already won.

“Now for the main course,” said Laurie. “Chef Rytlock, chef Caddoc, please come forward. Chef Caddoc, please begin.”

“Hmph,” said the tall Sylvari. “We have prepared a bighorn fricasse with skillet-fried mountain vegtables and griffon eggs in a balsamic reduction. Eat it.”

The judges seemed taken aback by his unusually surly attitude, but ate the delicious-smelling dish anyway. Rox cursed her traitor stomach for growling at the scent of it.

“The fricasse was an interesting adaptation of such traditional ingredients, but the sauce felt a little one-note to me,” said chef Sandy. “I wish you had found a way to add additional depth of flavor, maybe tie it back to the excellent balsamic reduction you added to the vegetable medley.”

“The eggs were cooked to perfection, as to be egg-spected,” Laurie chuckled at his own awful joke. “But I must agree with chef Sandy about the fricassee sauce. Chef Rytlock?”

Rytlock stomped forward, grinning. “Gentlemen,” he said, blissfully unaware of how horrifying it was when he tried to be charming. “I present to you Charr-grilled breast of duck stuffed with dolyak and bacon in a smoke whiskey gastrique, accompanied by fat-fried baby potatoes.”

Chef Sandy made an appreciative noise as he ate. “Excellent work, chef. Both the dolyak and the duck are cooked and seasoned perfectly, and the use of a bold flavor like smoke-whiskey in the gastrique is innovative in the way I’ve come to expect from your cuisine.”

“I heard the little lover’s spat you and your fellow chef were having about this dish earlier,” said Bunny. Logan coughed and his ears went red. “I can really taste the extra effort put into quick-smoking the dolyak instead of settling for artificial flavor. I’m glad you won that fight.”

“So far, it’s been neck and neck, but this is the course to decide it all!” said Laurie. “Chef Rytlock, Chef Talos, bring forth the desserts.”

Rytlock was first up, trying to defend a course he hadn’t been at all involved with. “For dessert, we have prepared deconstructed pear and brown butter tartlets with honey-pecan cremem fraiche.”

Logan’s pastry “filling” had smelled amazing on the stove. Hopefully it would be enough to put them over the edge.

“This pastry tastes great, but it’s a very safe choice,” said Bunny. “I would have prefered an unexpected flavor element to be incorporated.”

“I disaggre,” said chef Sandy. “A classic, clean flavor profile is perfect to finish a meal. I love what you’ve done.”

Finally, the last dish was brought out. “We have made you a snow cherry and black stout cobbler, featuring our signature moa egg custard and a mystery nectar drizzle,” said Talos.

“This is what I’m talking about,” said Bunny. “The stout gives the cherries an unexpected kick, and the creamy custard and sweet finish close out every bite. This dessert is my winner of the night.”

“All right, fellow judges,” said Laurie. “We’ve seen everything our contestants have to offer. Are we ready to declare a winner?”

There was a few moments of low mumbling around the judges’ table, then finally. “We are.”

“Chef Rytlock,” began Laurie, “you and Chef Logan used to work together flawlessly before the big split five years ago, and-I think I’m speaking for all of us, here-we were really looking forward to seeing a fresh take on youir unique blend of traditional cultural cuisines, but today the disparate elements just couldn’t quite come together. The food was excellent all around, but I’m afraid I’ll have to name Talos and Caddoc Wren as the winner of the throwdown brodown showdown for their strength of cohesion.”

“RAAA” said Rytlock noisily.

The Sylvari shared a quiet fistbump.

Rox’s shoulders slumped. They’d lost. It was all over for her at the restaurant - Rytlock would never accept her now.

“You fought well today, Eir,” the tall manager of the winning restaurant offered graciously. “Feel free to bring your crew to YOLO sometime. Brunch is on us.” She smiled and turned away, one arm slung over the shoulders of each brother.

“See what you did, Logan?” Rytlock snarled. “Your inability to fall in line lost this for us - we never should have brought you back!”

“Me? I think your inflexibility is what lost this! You used to be willing to listen!” Logan snapped back.

“That was before you gave our secrets to those ignorant saplings and ran off to be with your little human girlfriend!”

“Oh, of course that’s what this is all about. Just admit you were jealous I chose to work with someone who respected my skills and be done with it!”

“Coward!”

“Bully!”

“Oh, both of you, give it up!” Rox snapped. She had seethed through enough of their repetative arguements and she was finally done. “Rytlock, when will you get it through that thick skul of yours that Logan never leaked the menu - it was Cathe who betrayed you with her creepy tree telepathy all along! And Logan, just admit you can’t let go because you’re in love with him for ashes’ sake - you aren’t fooling anybody! Ugh.” She stormed off, furious, to a safe place behind the still-rolling cameras, where an unexpected surprise was waiting for her.

“Braham? How - how long have you been here?” she asked breathlessly.

“I saw the whole thing,” he said. “You were great out there, and good for you finally standing up to Rytlock’s bullying. You deserve so much better than him.”

“Oh, Braham. I’ve been so stupid,” she said. “Please forgive me for ever listening to my backwards brother. I love you, and I would be honored to take your name no matter what anybody thinks. Um, if you’d have me.”

He threw his arms around her. “Yes, yes I would.” He pulled away suddenly. “Rox, look! Out in the kitchen!”

She turned just in time to see Logan and Rytlock in close and most impressibvely quiet conversation, right before Rytlock grabbed Logan and dipped him into a dramatic kiss.

“I think things are going to be a little different from here on out,” said Braham. 

“I hope you’re right.”

 THE LION’S ARCH GAZETTE

20 Sol, 1327

New Beginnings, New Sucess

It’s been a rocky time for Consortium-starred restaurant Divinity’s Reach over the last few years, but inspiration has come from a surprising place - a loss on the famed Kitchen Stadium Showdown television show. Since their narrow defeat by long-time rivals You Obviously Love Omelettes, the restaurant has been experimenting with fresh and inventive menu choices, likely a result of the rehiring of co-head chef Logan Thackaray. 

The kitchen staff has been expanded to include up-and-comers Braham Eirsson, long-lost semi-legitimate son of restaurant manager Eir Stegalkin, and Rox Breakstone, newly-inducted into the clan headed by co-head chef Rytlock Brimstone. In addition to the positive resolution of the long-time feud between chefs Logan and Rytlock, the close-knit family atmosphere among the kitchen staff at Destiny’s Edge is an indicator of the restaurant’s warm and welcoming environment.

With a total redecoration inside, a complete overhaul of the service staff, and a fresh twist on the same incredible fusion cuisine they have always specialized in, Destiny’s Edge looks to remain in the upper eschelons of elite Lion’s Arch dining for many years to come.

[Article reproduced in its entirety.]


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